


For Daryl, on our way to Hell

by Tierra469



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: And Now For Something Completely Different, Badass Poetry, M/M, Poetry, Rickyl Writers' Group, man love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6030457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tierra469/pseuds/Tierra469
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In honor of next Sunday's episode, to feature our favorite brothers in arms in their own Excellent Adventure. A little ode from Rick to Daryl. Pour a glass of Pinot Noir, pull up a chair next to the crackling fire, and read this nice and slow. </p><p>On our way to Hell<br/>No country for old men, this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Daryl, on our way to Hell

On our way to Hell

No country for old men, this

Stand by my side will you my brother

You with your iron skin

Face hard as the ground we slept on, unforgiving as the sun

Constant as the moon.

 

No country for old men, this

So be the Aaron to my Moses

Your crossbow my mouthpiece

High priest of low places, blood sacrifices, you

And I will lead these people through this Wilderness

Without a burning bush, no manna

No commandments here on this windswept hillside

Only thou

And thou shalt

 

Stand by my side will you my brother

When no one else can or will

I see the errors of my ways

But erring can’t stop

Defying me you save my soul

      Peel my finger from the trigger

           Do the heavy lifting

My heart fails me and yours takes its place

 

You with your iron skin

We sin so innocently, die so slow

Buzzards circling always patient

While dirty hands and bearded jaws torture tender flesh

Rolling in nettles

      Tangled in thorns

                Mingling our blood

Hell, this, and heaven too

 

Face hard as the ground we slept on, unforgiving as the sun

Death won’t change your countenance.

If I lose this battle first, close my eyes and

Kill me twice, but gently

Don’t look to the stars for me that night—

I’m tattooed on your shoulder

Just one more demon

Whispering in your dreams

 

Constant as the moon

Your stony landscape of desolate crags and craters

Conceals on the shadow side

Lush green meadows, treehouses, trout haunts

And I a boy again wandering.

Had my life been baseball games and beers with the guys and

Yours, well, yours

I would not have learned

to truly deeply see.

**Author's Note:**

> So I considered keeping this little number to myself, but then I said "What the hell?" Maybe someone out there will enjoy a little something different. I decided deliberately to go with minimal punctuation. Did it work for you? If this poem grabbed you at all, please comment or leave a little love!


End file.
